


All Your Little Things are Perfect to Me

by pastarask14



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Self-Harm, body image issues, twitter hate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 13:39:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastarask14/pseuds/pastarask14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another push of the refresh button, another new hundred or so tweets full of hate. The past few hours had consisted of scrolling through the comments written to tear him down. They seemed to be doing their job, however, because here he was with tears streaming down his face as he read yet another hateful tweet. Was he really that pudgy? Was the acne dotting his back really that bad? Did the tattoos he was so proud of really look like they were immaturely done? Where were the fans that said they would be by his side through everything, and never hate on him?</p><p>When the Twitter hate to Harry gets bad, how will he react?</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Your Little Things are Perfect to Me

**Author's Note:**

> This was also posted on my Tumblr, irresistiblelittlelarrythings.tumblr.com.

Harry wandered downstairs from his room, dressed in the baggiest shirt he could find, tugging it away from his stomach every five seconds, because he could feel the pudge pressed up against it in the most horrendous way, and maybe the fans were right. Maybe he was getting fat. He rubbed at his puffy eyes, wincing at how they stung as his finger brushed over the skin. He’d been crying for hours not being able to tear himself away from his twitter feed. It was full of hate, people jeering at him for his weight gain, laughing at the acne dotting his back like stars in the sky, groaning at the fact that he had yet again got another tattoo, and did they really have meaning anymore? He knew that it was bad to read through all of the hate, but he couldn’t tear himself away from the website.

It was just like the first time on Red or Black after he had messed up his solo, their first time performing for a large crowd that wasn’t on the X Factor stage, and he hadn’t taken a big enough breath. Only that time, it had been a rookie mistake and it was easier to accept the hate, because he deserved it. But now, now Harry didn’t see any reason for it. Who tears down an 18-year-old boy for the very same thing he sang about every day? Little Things, his favorite song off of their new album, was all about loving every little thing about someone, but his fans were doing the opposite.

Louis was sat on the couch in their living room, curled up under a blanket, watching one of his all time favorite movies, Love Actually. From the doorway, Harry could make out the tears in his eyes as he watched the scene. They were present each time he would watch it, even after seeing it for what seemed like a million times before.

Harry sniffled softly, trying not to let Louis hear him as he made his way over to the couch. He was thankful that the room was dark, because then Louis wouldn’t see the tear tracks on his face, even though it didn’t really mean much, not during this scene at least. It wasn’t fair to keep this from his boyfriend, he knew, but it would worry him. Most of all, however, he wasn’t ready for the scolding that was sure to come. Harry knew how much Louis hated it when he scrolled through hours of endless hate on Twitter, but it wasn’t like he could stop easily. It became addicting, almost like the self-harm that left scars marring his skin. Louis didn’t know about those either. He felt horrible for keeping them from him, but he was so scared Louis would leave him if he found out that he had picked up the habit again after promising to stop months ago.

The soft thudding of Harry’s large, sock-clad feet on the wooden floor of the living room had Louis turning his head to the boy and smiling. He patted the spot next to him wordlessly, and Harry accepted, sitting down and curling into Louis’ side to watch the rest of the film. The older man draped his arm over his shoulder, leaning over to kiss Harry’s temple softly, his lips lingering a little longer than normal. It brought the first smile in hours to Harry’s lips as he snuggled closer into Louis, burying his face in the smaller man’s neck. 

Louis’ arm snaked around Harry’s waist, fingers resting gently on his side. Normally he wouldn’t mind the feeling, but not now that he had gained weight. He could feel Louis’ fingers digging into the fat on his side and it disgusted him. No doubt it disgusted Louis as well. He squirmed in Louis’ grasp; trying to move his hand away as tears filled his mossy green eyes. Burying his face into the crook of Louis’ neck, he allowed the tears to flow freely down his cheeks and into the hollow of Louis’ collarbones. It was at the part of the movie that he always cried during at least, so it wouldn’t raise any questions in Louis’ mind. And the squirming around was easy to play off, it only seemed as if he had been squirming to move around in Louis’ embrace to make himself more comfortable.

They stayed like that for a while, both boys crying, but for two different reasons. Louis holding him at least made it somewhat easier on Harry, his tears as he recalled the hate were starting to subside, but he just couldn’t shake the thoughts filling his mind. Images of the tweets flashed past his shuteyes, his inner voices that appeared just to torment him, reading the tweets in hateful tones. Harry stated shaking in silent sobs, just wanting the voices in his head to go away. Beside him, Louis had no clue what was going on, but he didn’t tear his gaze from the screen once. He knew that Harry got emotional, it was nothing new, he just knew to comfort him as best as he could, which was usually by rubbing small circles into his hipbones.

Louis slipped his hand underneath the hem of Harry’ overlarge shirt, fingertips gently pushing down the waistband of both his sweatpants and boxers to expose his hipbone fully. In a gentle pattern, his thumb started rubbing circles on the exposed skin, digging into the new excess flesh that hadn’t ben there months before. The Doncaster lad didn’t notice it however; he was too engrossed in the film. Harry, on the other hand, couldn’t focus on anything other than Louis’ thumb digging into his side. What used to be a comforting gesture was now nothing short of uncomfortable.

“Stop.” He murmured softly, his voice thick with tears. Immediately, Louis could tell that something was wrong, just in the tone of Harry’s voice. He picked up the remote and paused the movie taking the Cheshire boy by surprise. Louis NEVER paused Love Actually; it was just something he didn’t do.

“Hazza? What’s wrong, love?” Louis asked sweetly, but his voice gave away just how concerned he was for the younger male. It was so unlike Harry to squirm around in his arms at the slightest of touches. The younger male was normally like a small kitten, leaning into each touch, begging for more when the massaging fingers stopped. Something had to be seriously wrong. 

Harry looked up at Louis with water eyes. He couldn’t tell Louis what was wrong, because the older male was sure to scold him for what he had been doing. Still, it was eating away at him. He felt extremely guilty for keeping everything locked up, because he knew that one day, he was going to explode and go too far.

“Louis, do you think I’m… fat?” he asked softly, not daring to look into the cerulean eyes he could drown in, as blue as the sea. He nervously played with the hem of his overlarge shirt, picking at a loose thread.

The Doncaster native looked at the younger male in shock. “Hazza, what’s this all about?” he asked worriedly. Harry was anything but fat. Sure, he had put on a few pounds as of late, but it didn’t make him fat. The muscular definition in his chest and stomach wasn’t as prominent, but it was still somewhat there. Personally, Louis liked the change in Harry’s appearance. He himself had a little bit of a tummy- affectionately dubbed the ‘tommo tummy’ or ‘tomlintummy’ by the fans- and he never seemed to get hate because of it. Was that what this was all about?

Harry sighed. It was typical Louis style, answering a question with a question. “Just answer the question, Louis.” He begged, eyes, screwed shut, tryin to hold back the tears pooling behind the shut lids. When Louis answered a question with a question, it usually meant he was stalling. And when Louis stalled, it normally meant his answer was the one that harry didn’t want to hear.

“No, Harry, I don’t think you’re fat. You’ve put on a little weight, yes, but that doesn’t mean you’re fat. Why are you asking?” Louis sat up from his slouched position, turning on the couch to face the younger lad, reaching for his hands as Harry tried to pull away.

“No reason. Just wondering.” Harry said softly, opening his eyes and faking a smile. “Now let’s continue on with this movie, yeah?”

Louis shook his head, knowing his boyfriend was lying to him. ”No Harry, there must be a reason. You can tell me. You know you can tell me anything.”

Harry’s fake smile fell to the frown he had been suppressing the whole time. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out except for a strangled sob as the dam broke loose and tears streamed down his face. Louis had this uncanny ability to break down all of his walls, no matter how strong he built them up. He was his one weakness, his kryptonite. 

Strong arms wrapped around Harry’s thin waist, pulling him into Louis’ lap as Harry curled against his chest. The younger boy buried his face into the crook of the elder’s neck, his arms curling in between their chests, pressed together. Louis’ hand came to run through his hair, cupping the back of his head, holding him close to his chest. He hated seeing Harry cry, simply hated it. And when he wouldn’t tell him what was wrong, but he started crying, he was worried even more. “Baby,” he whispered, drawing small patterns on Harry’s back to try to calm him down, “C’mon, talk to Lou, talk to Boobear. Is this because of your weight gain?” he asked softly, trying not to set Harry off anymore than he already was. The younger male nodded, sobbing harder. “Oh Haz,” Louis frowned. He gently pressed kisses to the top of his head, the mass of curls tickling his cheeks and nose. “Its not that noticeable. It was just a couple of pounds.”

“Y-you don’t get it d-do you?” Harry managed to say between the sobs that tore out of his throat. “T-the fans, Lou. T-they…. They pointed it o-o-out.” Harry shook his head. How could Louis say that no one had noticed his obvious weight gain, when there were thousands of hateful messages spamming his twitter? 

Louis felt his heart breaking in his chest, he absolutely hated seeing Harry like this. Based on what Harry had just said, he knew that his boyfriend had gone behind his back and done the one thing Louis asked him never to do again after Red or Black, and even though he knew he should be mad at him for breaking his promise, he couldn’t bring himself to even be slightly angered. His love was hurting, and in turn, he was hurting as well, and all he wanted to do was make him feel better. Louis shook his head, placing gentle kisses to Harry’s forehead, wanting to at least calm his loud sobs. ”Babe, what did the fans say?” he asked softly, rubbing soft circles into Harry’s back in an attempt to calm him. 

Harry pulled his phone out of his pocket, handing it to Louis, not muttering a word. His Twitter app had been left open, all Louis had to do was unlock his phone and the source of all of his tears would be there for him to see. It would be so much easier this way, instead of trying to get his vocal chords to work and tell him. Louis accepted the phone from his boyfriend, opening it up to find Harry’s twitter feed full of hate.

‘ @Harry_Styles huh he looks fat! But tell him GO TO THE GIYM! UNFORTUNATELY LOOK BETTER IN THE KISS YOU VIDEO!!!’

‘@Harry_Styles love, you’re fat, you need to do exercises and stop eating crap =(‘

‘@Harry_Styles ewww ur Soo FAT!!!!’

‘@Harry_Styles‘ acne makes me cringe’

‘I love @Harry_Styles but I absolutely hate his tattoos! ‘

‘@Harry_Styles has shit tattoos’

Louis brought a hand up to cover over his mouth, closing the phone and setting it on the end table. Those were just the first few tweets as he scrolled down, he wasn’t able to read beyond that for fear a throwing up what he had had for lunch. Tears formed in the elder male’s eyes as he looked down at his lover, his body still shaking with sobs. ”See, L-lou? I told y-you I was f-f-fat!” he cried, burying his face back into Louis’ chest. 

Louis shook his head, kissing the top of Harry’s head repeatedly. ”No, baby, you’re not. Those aren’t your real fans. Those are fake fans.” he said, “They’re only trying to tear you down.” He had no idea how he was going to get Harry to see that he was the one telling the truth and not the fans, but for now, all he could think about was trying to calm him down. A few minutes later, an idea suddenly hit him, and he knew it was perfect.

Louis moved Harry off of him, setting him back on the couch beside him as he stood up. He stuck out his hand to the younger male, a silent question. Harry accepted the hand, standing up, trying to wipe the tears from his eyes that still continued to fall freely down his face, the sobs slowly starting to subside. Without a sound, Louis led the two of them upstairs into their master bathroom where he shut the door behind them. 

With a kiss to Harry’s cheek, he dropped his hand to search the top drawer for a lighter so he could light the candles scattered around the room, giving it a warm glow. Harry followed his every move with curious eyes, but didn’t say a word. The shuffling of Louis as he moved around the large bathroom mixed with the sound of Harry sniffling, creating the only sounds in the room. In no time, Louis was back at Harry’s side, guiding him over to the counter, motioning for him to sit down. Harry did as he was told, climbing up onto the counter, making their height difference even more prominent. 

“Close your eyes, and don’t protest, alright?” Louis said softly, kissing Harry on the lips. Harry bit his lip and nodded, doing what he was told. Louis waited for Harry’s eyes to close before putting his plan into action. He reached for the hem of Harry’s shirt, gently tugging it over his head before tossing it to the ground. Harry whimpered in protest, his arms immediately flying up to cover his lower torso, shattering Louis’ heart even more. He normally never said that he hated anyone- he was a very loving person- but right now, he hated all of the fans that had sent his boyfriend hate that had caused him to feel this way about himself. ”C’mon, Hazza, I need to see your tummy, alright?” he said against his lips, pressing gentle kisses to them. ”I’m going to make you feel better.” Slowly, Harry dropped his arms so that they laid limply at his side, the tears finally starting to still as curiosity took over the younger lad. What on Earth was Louis going to do to him? 

Louis gently ran his hand over Harry’s stomach, internally sighing as he felt the muscles tense beneath his hand. How could anyone tell this beautiful man that he was fat or gross? He knew Harry was the type of person who had to validate the hate by searching for more online. Louis knew it was a trigger to his boyfriend, but it didn’t seem like he saw it that way at all. And if this had triggered these thoughts, then they might have triggered…. “Hazza, show me your thighs,” he murmured, hands sliding down from his stomach to rest on the waistband of his sweatpants.

Harry bit his lip, knowing that Louis was on to him. He knew about the self-harm. He couldn’t deny him now, thought, it would only fuel the fire of suspicion. With a slight nod of his head, he felt Louis start to tug down the sweatpants, lifting each leg up to slide them off his long, thin legs, adding them to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Harry shivered in the cool air, and Louis felt slightly bad. The feeling soon disappeared, however, when he realized this was something that he had to do to make his boyfriend stop hurting so bad. 

The smaller male stood on his tiptoes to press gently kisses all over Harry’s face. ”I’m not mad. I’m not disappointed in you,” he whispered over and over like a mantra against Harry’s skin. While he distracted him with kisses and whispered words of love, Louis’ hands went to work, rolling up the legs of his boxers. He pulled back, looking Harry straight in the emerald eyes, his own cerulean hues shining with love and adoration. ”I just want you to know that you are so, so beautiful, Harold.” 

The scars on Harry’s thighs showed prominently in the light of the candles. Shimmery, silvery white lines standing like soldiers lined up for battle along his skin. Tears formed in Louis’ eyes, but he blinked them back quickly as he looked down at his thighs. New scars littered the skin, some older some new, almost as if they had been inflicted within the last twenty-four hours. He let his fingertips ghost over each scar, knowing that there was a reason, a story, behind each one. 

“Baby, these scars make you who you are. You are beautiful, these scars don’t take away from that, okay?” he whispered, dipping his head down to kiss the scars in neat lines down Harry’s legs. “I’m not going to ask you to stop, even though I want you to, because I know it’s hard. Its your way of coping, but I would like you to try something new, alright?” he looked into Harry’s shining emerald eyes, waiting for a response before continuing on. ”I want you to use me as your coping method. Whenever you feel the urge to cut, come to me, and I’ll help you as best as I can. I’ll distract you and take your pain away, alright?” Louis placed one final kiss on the newest, and deepest cut, his lips lingering against the skin. 

The Doncaster lad rested his hands on either side of Harry’s hips, rubbing small circles into his sides. ”Pretty, pretty please, don’t you ever, ever feel, like you’re less than, less than perfect. Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel, like your nothing, you are perfect to me. You’re so mean, when you talk, about yourself, you are wrong. Change the voices, in your head. Make them like you, instead.” he sang softly against Harry’s skin, his lips ghosting over the flesh, pressing kisses down every so often.

Tears continued to stream down Harry’s face, only this time, they weren’t because of the hate. Louis always knew exactly what to say to him to make him feel better. With one last lingering kiss, Louis pulled back. While he knew what he was doing was helping Harry, he knew they still had a lot to get through before the younger man started believing him. “You’re perfect in my eyes.” He murmured as he picked up the marker that he had set on the counter and turned to Harry. “Now close yours.” He said, gently bringing a hand up to wave over his eyelids as they closed.

The lid came off with a ‘pop’, the noise echoing around the large room. Harry opened his eyes to see what the source of the noise was, but Louis quickly covered them with his left hand. “Keep them closed, baby.” He whispered. A sigh of frustration escaped past Harry’s lips, but he did as he was told, once more closing his eyes.

Louis pressed the marker down onto the flesh of Harry’s stomach, writing words as they came to mind: Perfect, Flawless, Beautiful, Skinny, Gorgeous- the list went on and on. He ran out of space eventually, making sure that each word was visible and that they didn’t clutter up the skin too much. Louis pulled Harry off of the counter, taking his overlarge hand in his own petite one before turning him around to face the mirror, the older male’s arms snaking around his waist, making sure that they words weren’t covered up by his arms or hands. “Open your eyes, Hazza.” He murmured, softly, standing up on tiptoes to rest his chin on his lover’s shoulder.

Harry did as he was told, opening his eyes to reveal the beautiful emerald orbs underneath the lids. He immediately looked down to his stomach where he felt Louis writing something with the marker he had managed to catch a glimpse of earlier before Louis covered his eyes once more. The tears that had slowly started to disappear were back full force once more when his eyes grazed over the words written on his skin in Louis’ scrawl. Behind him, Louis pressed gentle kisses to his neck in an attempt to sooth him. “T-thank you.” He managed to mouth to his boyfriend in the mirror, his green eyes meeting and drowning in a sky of blue, like the grass on the horizon where it meets the sky. Louis just kissed his neck again, sucking a soft love bite that he knew their makeup artists were going to have a fit over later. 

The first part of his plan having been completed, even with a minor set back, Louis figured it was time to move on to the next part. He unwrapped his arms from around Harry, taking his hand in his instead, before leading him out of the bathroom and into their shared room. He sat down on the bed, gently pulling Harry to lay down with him. The younger male curled into him, resting his head on his chest. Louis threaded his fingers through the chocolate curls atop his head. 

“Harry Edward Styles, you are a beautiful, beautiful man. And I want you to believe me when I say this to you. Everything those fans are saying, it’s fake. You are not fat, baby, not by any means. You’ve just gained a little weight over the past few months, but trust me, when I say it looks good on you.”

Harry looked up at Louis, wiping away the stubborn tears that had still refused to leave his eyes. “Really?” he asked, biting his lip in a way that drove Louis absolutely insane.

“Really Harry.” That answer must have been enough for him, because he smiled, and ducked his head, blush spreading across his cheeks. Louis kissed his forehead, starting to hum the opening to one of his favorite songs off of their new album. “You’re hand fits in mine, like its made just for me, but bear this in mind, it was, meant to be.” He sang, threading his fingers through Harry’s with one hand. “And I’m joining up the dots with the freckles on your cheeks, and it all makes sense to me.” 

He continued singing, pulling Harry’s face out of his chest so that he could look at the younger male. “I know you’ve never loved the crinkles by your eyes when you smile, you’ve never loved your stomach or your thighs,” He brushed his free hand over Harry’s stomach, the muscles not tensing this time, and down to his thighs, tracing small patterns against the skin, “the pimples on your back running down along your spine, but I’ll love them endlessly.” Louis smiled at the lyric change, his fingertips dancing down Harry’s back, following the line of his spine. He truly did love every little thing about Harry, and he could go on for days detailing every little thing about him that made his heart go wild. 

“I won’t let these little things slip out of my mouth, but if I do, it’s you, oh it’s you, they add up to, I’m in love with you and all these little things.”

The verse that Louis got to sing in the song meant a lot to him, especially because of how true it was. Harry always had to have a cup of tea before he went to bed, which is why Louis always had a box or two packed in his suitcase for when they traveled. He would go into Harry’s hotel room, because Management sometimes kept them in separate ones, and wouldn’t allow them to stay in the same one, and he’d make Harry his nightly tea. But on those nights that he was allowed to stay in the same room as him, he would hear Harry talk in his sleep. They sometimes held conversations, and Harry would wake up in the morning with no recollection of the conversation, but Louis remembered each and every one, even if they didn’t make sense at all. They were the secrets that he would keep to the grave, because they were too precious to share with anyone else. “You can’t go to bed without a cup of tea, maybe that’s the reason that you talk in your sleep. And all those conversations are the secrets that I keep, though it makes no sense to me.”

 

“I know you’ve never loved the sound of your voice on tape, you never want to know how much you weigh, you still have to squeeze into your jeans, but you’re perfect to me.” It was weird singing Harry’s verse to him, because it was something that Harry sang to him all the time when he was having a hard time getting his jeans to fit in the morning, or when he stood in front of the scale for his monthly weigh-in that the younger boy had insisted he stop doing. It wasn’t good for his self-esteem he would say, but where was that Harry now? The one that didn’t care about how much Louis weighed, but couldn’t stand the thought of being fat himself? 

“I won’t let these little things slips out of my mouth, but if it’s true, it’s you, it’s you, they add up to. I’m in love with you and all these little things.”

“You’ll never love yourself half as much as I love you. You’ll never treat yourself right, darling but I want you to. If I let you know, I’m here for you, maybe you’ll love yourself like I love you oh.” It was true. No one in the world, not Harry, not Harry’s mum, not even any of their fans could love Harry as much as Louis loved him. It was hard to even try to attempt to discuss how in love he was, because he could never find the right words to describe the way he felt when he looked at Harry, or when the younger male looked at him. It was like these… sparks would erupt inside of him, taking over his senses, and making all of his thoughts harryharryharry. 

All Louis wanted was for Harry to start treating himself right again. After he started cutting a few months before, Louis had been devastated, because he felt like he had failed the younger male. Now that he knew he was doing it again, he felt that way even more, because he was unable to stop it completely the first time. This time, however, he knew it was going to be his last, because Louis was going to help him through this. He was always going to be there for Harry, and maybe, just maybe, he’d get him to love himself almost as much as Louis loved him. 

 

“I’ve just let these little things slips out of my mouth, ‘cause it’s you, oh it’s you, it’s you they add up to, and I’m in love with you, and all these little things. I won’t let these little things slip out of my mouth, but if it’s true, it’s you, it’s you they add up to. I’m in love with you, and all your little things.” 

Louis trailed off, pressing his lips to Harry’s forehead softly before pulling back and tugging him in closer. The room was silent, Louis’ soft voice no longer filling the void, but that was okay. They didn’t need to speak to know that they were there for each other, and that was all that mattered to them. The silence was never going to be awkward, but rather… comfortable. Louis just wanted Harry to believe him when he said that he was beautiful, and skinny and perfect according to every definition of the word, and he was prepared to spend the rest of his life convincing him of that fact if it came down to it. 

“Hey Lou?” Harry asked, breaking the silence after a couple of minutes, tilting his head up to look at Louis.

“Yeah Haz?”

“I believe you.”


End file.
